


Working It Out

by convenientmisfires



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, F/M, Orgasm Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convenientmisfires/pseuds/convenientmisfires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She gives him nearly twenty minutes to cool down, trying to do the same herself, before she goes looking for him in the annals of the station. </p><p>(Set directly after their argument over how to extract information from the mountain prisoner in 2x11)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working It Out

 

She gives him nearly twenty minutes to cool down, trying to do the same herself, before she goes looking for him in the annals of the station. He's hidden himself in a room they've turned into a sort of rudimentary training area. They had turned the insulation used on the way to Earth into a large sparring mat in the center of the room and created a few areas for strength training.  

 

She notices his jacket in a heap on the floor, as if he'd thrown it off upon entering, as she closes the door softly behind her. Across the room Marcus stands, his back to her, getting up after what had to be a considerable amount of push-ups. 

 

He hasn't noticed her and he strips off his shirt, casting it aside as he moves to the high bar and begins to pull himself up, aggressive yet controlled in his movements. 

 

Abby moves toward him from her place by the door and decides to make her presence known.

 

"I don't know where you get off considering torturing people part of doing the right thing." 

 

His feet fall heavily to the floor as he drops down, slightly startled.

 

"And I don't see how you think doing nothing is going to help get those kids back," he says as he turns to face her. 

 

Anger flashes in her eyes and she moves into his space. "There are other ways to get answers, Marcus, that don't involve toying with a man's life." She continues into his space, backing him towards the wall. "You trusted me enough to give me this position. Now trust my decisions."

 

"I trust you Abby, I do," he says leaning forward into her space as his back hits the wall. "But we can't just wait around and hope he coughs up some answers." In a swift move, he reaches for her hips and turns, reversing their positions, pressing her into the wall. 

 

"Marcus," her tone is tense, a warning. He ignores it and moves closer, pinning her between himself and the wall.  His hands on either side of her head, he leans down and brushes his lips against her ear. 

 

“If he's not going to talk, Abby, we have to make him talk." His hands move from the wall to her waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of her shirt and teasing along the top of her pants. 

 

Her hands, having remained idle far too long, come to rest on his sweaty shoulders before she applies pressure, urging him to his knees. "And you have to trust me when I say torturing him isn't going to get you anywhere."

 

Marcus is remarkably willing as she pushes him down before her.  He glances up, holding her gaze while he slowly and deliberately undoes the button of her pants and lowers the zipper. His hands are hot against her skin as he pushes her pants and underwear down just enough to get to where he wants to be.  Breaking eye-contact, he moves to kiss and bite along the inside of her thighs; he hears Abby breathe in sharply as he sucks and bites at her, marking the skin just above her thigh. 

 

Abby pushes him back from her, catching his eyes she toes off her boots kicking them aside and leans down slowly, giving him a generous view of her cleavage as she shoves her pants the rest of the way off her legs and kicks them to the side with her shoes. She stands back up and gives him a look that is more of a challenge than anything else - she sees his acceptance of it when she widens her stance and smirks. 

 

He's on her in a second, hands on her hips as he buries his face between her thighs. Abby tugs at his hair, her hips thrusting off the wall against his face. Marcus moves a hand from her hip to her abdomen and holds her in place as he sucks hard on her clit. She's already wet, she's been keyed up since their argument started.  Marcus slides the hand still on her hip down the back of her thigh, achingly slow. When he reaches the bend of her knee, Abby's grip in his hair tightens painfully, trying to maintain her balance as he lifts her leg over his shoulder.

 

The hand he used to move her leg joins his mouth, his fingers moving against her in patterns she can't follow. She tries to buck her hips against his hand, aching for more, needing him to give her more, but he presses her back against the wall. 

 

She lets out a low groan in the quiet room as he quits his teasing, moving one, then two fingers inside, thrusting at a quick, steady pace. He looks up at her, smirking, and she narrows her eyes at him, her hands tightening in his hair trying to force his mouth back where she wants it. 

 

He leans back in and her breath quickens; he must know she's close, can feel her trembling against his hand. Marcus presses his lips against her in a kiss that is infuriatingly gentle, and her hips strain against the hand holding her down.

 

"What the hell are you doing?" Abby gasps as he stands, leaving her breathless and wanting as he sucks her taste from his own hand. She looks at him like she's ready to smack the smirk he's been wearing right off his face, but then he's kissing her, hard and deep, his hands tangling in her hair and she moans into his mouth as she tastes herself on his tongue. 

 

He drops his hands to the backs of her thighs and lifts her against him, walking them towards the mats at the center of the room as she wraps her legs around his waist. 

 

Abby drags her lips down his throat as he carries her across the room. When he stops at the mats, she slides out of his grasp, dragging her entire body against his before she sets her feet back on solid ground. She feels him straining against her and smiles wickedly at him as she moves to lay on the mats; she drags him down with her by the waistband of his pants. 

 

Marcus follows her down, kneeling again between her legs and leaning over her. His hands skim up her sides to push her shirt up and off over her head. Abby sits up and reaches behind her to undo the clasp of her bra, tossing it in the direction of the rest of their discarded clothing. She leans forward, pulling him to her and lavishing his chest with kisses. Her hands reach for the waistband of his pants again, wanting him as naked as she is - before she can do more than unbutton them and move for the zipper, he grabs her wrists. Swiftly, he pins her back against the mats, holding her hands above her head. 

 

"Don't move." He whispers, as his hands trail down her arms and he bites and kisses a line from just below her ear to her collar bone.  She does as she's told, her hands clenching into fists as Marcus makes his way to her breasts. His hand is back between her thighs, teasing her in slow, lazy circles. 

 

When he bites down hard on her nipple and sucks it into his mouth, her hands forget their orders and fly to the back of his head. He lets go of her breast and he glares at her for proving, yet again, that she's never been good at following orders. He moves down her stomach kissing and biting along the way until he's back between her thighs, his fingers still, and breathes against her; she arches her back, her eyes falling shut.

 

"We need answers, Abby."

 

And suddenly he's gone. Her eyes fly open and she props herself up on her elbows glaring at him as he stands in front of her. He's taking off his boots and socks, his pace almost leisurely, as if he hasn't left her wanting for the second time. She breathes heavily and locks her eyes with his as he finally takes off his pants and rejoins her on the mats. 

 

"I know that, Marcus." She snaps back at him as he prowls towards her, hovering over her and growling as he captures her lips in a bruising kiss.  His hands move to her thighs, hiking her legs up over his waist as he enters her so slowly, completely altering her definition of torture. The dichotomy between his kisses (hard, fast, and everywhere at once) and the movement of his hips (soft, slow, and strangely gentle) quickly begins to drive her mad. 

 

She digs her heels into his lower back as she rakes her nails over his shoulders. 

 

"Fuck, Kane." She groans, her tone almost exasperated. 

 

His hips snap and he thrusts into her, hard, at the use of his last name. He immediately picks up the pace. Her back arches off the floor as he sucks at the skin just above her left breast, leaving a mark he's not sure she'll be able to hide later. 

 

Her breath quickens and she cries out as he moves a hand from her thigh to her breast, twisting her nipple almost painfully. 

 

"Marcus, please." His head falls to her shoulder, breath heavy, his eyes closed in concentration. She takes her chance at his momentary distraction and rolls them over.

 

He reaches for her hips, but she pins his hands to the mat above his head, mirroring his hold on her earlier. The ring that hangs from her neck burns against his skin as she leans over him.  She closes the distance between them, dragging her breasts against his chest and raising her hips slowly and deliberately. 

 

"Listen to me," she's breathing heavily, pausing between words to catch her breath. "We are not torturing the prisoner. We're not torturing anybody." He groans as she lowers herself again, as slowly as he had teased her before, his hands tightening around hers as she interlocks their fingers above his head. 

 

"Promise me, Marcus." She whispers into his ear before biting a place on his neck, causing him to buck his hips against her. 

 

"I promise - dammit, Abby, I promise." His voice breaks when her name falls from his lips. She lets go of his hands and leans back, quickening her pace. He follows her, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her, crushing her against him and teasing her breasts with his lips, teeth and tongue. 

 

She comes apart with his name on her lips and her nails digging into his shoulders. He follows moments later, burying his face against her and whispering her name like a prayer. She runs her fingers through his hair as they try to catch their breath, cradling his head over her heart. 

 

"There has to be another way, a better way to get him to talk." She leans her head against his as she feels her heart rate return to normal with his slow steady breathing. 

 

He moves a hand to her face, leaning back to look her in the eye, “We'll figure this out, Abby." He kisses her softly, an apology and a promise.

 

They part as a voice comes over the intercom to notify them that Chancellor Griffin is needed in medical. They clean up quickly and he makes sure she looks presentable, tugging the neckline of her shirt to hide the place he'd marked her earlier, tucking her hair behind her ear. She smiles and squeezes his hand before turning to leave, reassured that whatever happens, they'll work it out together.

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to beyonce and the crazy in love remix, and brittany (for not only being an excellent beta) + the rest of the mvp squad for the greatest encouragement I could have asked for.


End file.
